


Holy Gemini, Batman!

by southofthesky



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Adult Humor, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, I just wanted to give my baby boy Tim some love, No beta we die like mne, and some trouble, the most infrequent updates known to mankind I'm so sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-02-23 01:28:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23803609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/southofthesky/pseuds/southofthesky
Summary: Parker Green really, really never meant to become a costumed vigilante. But Batman has seemingly abandoned Gotham and there is no way she's letting people get hurt because he and Robin don't seem to care anymore. So here she is, running around in a homemade Robin suit trying to keep the streets of Gotham safe.Why did she think this was a good idea again?
Relationships: Tim Drake & Original Character(s), Tim Drake & Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 10





	1. Seeing Double

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After sending the Reach packing, Tim was hoping to get at least a little bit of a break before something else crazy happened.
> 
> Of course, the universe had to drop some Robin wannabe in his lap instead.

It was only a week before his birthday when Tim ran into the most annoying girl he had ever met. He’d been following a couple of the Penguin’s men for the better part of an hour. They had taken a ridiculous route, meandering through the city streets. They clearly thought they were being followed, and to be completely fair to them, they were. Their destination turned out to be a cliche looking street corner in the East End, their van parked under the lone functioning lamppost on the street. A meet up. Tim was planning on simply spying on them. Gathering more intel so that he and Batman could catch a bigger fish.

The night was full of the sounds that usually populated a city. You could hear cars driving on the busier street a few blocks away. Animals skittering through trash bags in the alleyways. The occasional fight between someone on the street and the shadow-draped tree that had scared them shitless. By all means, it was a normal night in Gotham, so all the mistakes that Tim made all within seconds of each other didn’t make any sense to him. He should have noticed the group of carjackers who thought the van was easy pickings _before_ they got that close. He should have noticed the bright red jacket on the rooftop across the street _before_ the wearer jumped off the building to attack a trio. He should have noticed the Penguin’s men getting out of the car _before_ he jumped into the fray.

His brain screamed as he flipped out his staff, knocking a crowbar out of someone's hand and across the street. Bruce hated when average citizens got the idea that they could just put on a mask and become the next Batman. He kicked the next one in the chest. It never ended well for them. Someone landed a mean punch to his eye. Just last month they found a kid wearing a mask in a dumpster. His back hit red jacket’s, the carjackers and hired guns were clearly content to put their differences aside if it meant delivering a beating to one half of Gotham’s dynamic duo and some new do-gooder. The man in the dumpster, Greg Barnes, had been twenty-two, about to graduate from Gotham University. He ducked under an arm and crushed a woman’s toes under his heel. Winning this fight wasn’t going to do wonders for getting whoever this was to stop what they were doing but it wouldn’t do too much good if he let them get hurt either. His staff snapped against the back of one of their assailant's heads. The last one.

“Jeez, I was not expecting to deal with that many guys. Is this what every bat-fight is like?” asked a feminine voice. He turned around to get his first actual look at Red Jacket. He was pretty sure his heart stopped beating for a second.

“What the _hell_ are you wearing?”

He didn’t quite know why he asked. The answer was obvious. The pieces were clearly things she had found in her closet. Tennis shoes (Seriously? Who fought crime in tennis shoes? Well, Cassie did, but she was a demigod), what he was pretty sure was just a plain pair of yoga pants, and a red hoodie with the sleeves of an undershirt sticking out to cover her knuckles and protect them when she threw punches. The thing that gave him pause wasn’t the way he could picture her smiling under the black ski mask that covered only the lower half of her face or the absolutely ancient grappling gun hanging from her waist, but the bright yellow ‘R’ shining up at him from where it was haphazardly stitched onto her right breast pocket. _Oh, god._

She crossed her arms over her chest defensively. “What’s it to you?”

“What’s it- you’re wearing _my_ -” He could already feel himself getting a headache. “You need to go home. Now.”

“Says who?” she challenged. There was a glint in her green eyes that he recognized from every time someone told Bart there was pizza nearby. She was having _fun_.

He sucked in a deep breath. “I do. And so does Batman the second I tell him some twelve-year-old is running around in a homemade Robin suit trying to get herself killed.”

She scoffed, honest to god, scoffed at him. “Yeah, I’d prefer if Batman spent his time actually doing his job. And I’m not twelve. I’m fourteen”

He wondered for a moment if he was this frustrating when he shoehorned himself into the role of Robin. Of course, at the time the role was vacant and he’d been trying to help Batman, not stick it to him. She had seemingly decided that he and Gotham’s three other vigilantes weren’t doing enough to keep the city safe and somehow the duty had fallen to her. Knowing that anyone crazy enough to make a costume and steal(?) a grapple gun wasn’t going to follow orders easily, he did the only thing he could think of. He whipped out a pair of handcuffs, locking their right hands together with ease.

Her mouth fell open, waving their connected arms around. “Hey!”

“You’re telling me your address and I’m taking you home.” Her mouth snapped shut as she glared daggers at him. “And if you don’t tell me where to take you, we’re going to stand here all night and neither of us is going to help anybody.”

“Fuck off.”

Tim’s jaw hardened and he yanked their connected hands toward the holo-pad on his glove, typing in the code to call the R-Cycle to his location. There was no way he was leaping across rooftops handcuffed to a bratty civilian. She tried to pull her hand back towards her twice before giving up on it. While they waited, he sent a tip to the GCPD regarding the street fight. He wasn’t going to let these guys get away just because he’d gotten burdened with an annoying girl with a hero complex. Bruce would be disappointed. His headache found its way back to the front of his skull. How was he even going to begin to explain this mess to Bruce? He’d gotten no further in the case and gotten completely distracted while he was at it. If Dick found out he’d just tease him relentlessly about having a fangirl trying to emulate him.

The sound of an engine reached their ears and the R-Cycle whipped around the corner, coming to a stop in front of the two Robins. She gave him a look. “Seriously?”

“Address,” he stated, climbing aboard the bike. She continued to stand next to it, incredulous.

“Are you even old enough to drive?”

“Address.”

He did his best imitation of what Dick called Bruce’s bat-glare as they locked eyes. She was pretty determined to stay out and cause trouble, green eyes hard as she stared him down. He didn’t care. His job was to keep people safe and throwing themselves into what would’ve been a seven-vs-one fight without his interruption was not safe by any means. Finally, she rolled her eyes, huffing at him. “Sullivan street. Seven blocks from the University.”

“Was that so hard?” he asked. She ignored him as she climbed behind on the bike. She initially attempted to sit as far back as she could, but the handcuffs forced her to sit right against him, her free arm wrapped stiffly around his middle. He grimaced at the contact. He wasn’t exactly used to having a passenger, especially one that was handcuffed to him and didn’t want to be there. “You’re going to want to hold on tighter than that.”

Her arm squeezed him. Hard. She laughed at the sound of distress that escaped his lungs. He frowned, but quickly got his revenge by revving the bike’s engine and getting a quick start that she wasn't prepared for. She gasped, suddenly holding onto him for dear life as he zipped through the streets. Maybe he went a little faster than he normally did. And maybe he pulled corners tighter than he needed to. He wasn’t trying to show off. He was just getting payback because she ruined his sting and told him to fuck off. The address she gave was only a five-minute drive from the street corner they’d come from and he found himself slowing to a stop next to the curb, the sounds of the city replacing the wind whipping against his ears.

She jumped off the bike as quickly as possible, hand outstretched to him. There was better lighting on this street, and he could see the dark green side panels on her pants. He wondered if the green was a personal choice or because these were the closest to completely dark pants she owned. “Kay, we’re here. Uncuff me.”

He looked at her quizzically, then around at the buildings on the block they had stopped on. “Which one is yours?”

“HA!” She laughed. The corners of her eyes crinkled as she grinned. “Like I’d tell you where I live bird boy. You’d try to tell my family about our meeting and get me grounded for life.”

Well, she was right about that. His intention was always to tell her parents what she was up to, whether that meant following her home from the street fight or escorting her to the door himself. Batman would’ve done the same thing to him when he was starting out if Tim didn’t threaten to reveal his identity. God, maybe he was as annoying as this girl.

_“Robin, status?”_

Bruce’s voice over the coms visibly startled him. The girl snickered. He shot her a glare as he answered his mentor. “Some carjackers tried to steal the van Penguins men were in. I had to intervene to make sure no one was killed. We’re going to have to find another lead to follow.”

He could hear Bruce grunt. Great. _“Return to the cave to debrief.”_

“Copy that, B.” He tried to reach up his hands to rub his temples only to be reminded that he had little-miss-deathwish cuffed to him. A loud groan escaped his lips and he angrily shook his cuffed hand. This girl had really ruined his night.

“Trouble in bat-paradise?” she asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

“This isn’t a game,” he replied, exhausted. He wanted to get this girl off him. He needed some peace and quiet to clear his head before heading back to the cave. He pulled the key out of one of his pockets with his free hand, looking up at her before he unlocked the cuffs. “What’s your name?”

“Robin.”

He frowned. “This is serious.”

“You’re a detective,” she informed him, matter-of-factly. “You figure it out.”

He took a slow breath as he contemplated if Bruce’s no-kill rule applied to girls that were trying to piss him off on purpose. It probably did.

“You’re right,” he replied with a tight smile, unlocking the handcuffs a bit more aggressively than he really needed to. She quickly freed herself, rubbing the sore spot on her wrist. The perils of not having padded gloves. “I will figure it out.”

“You’re a dick, you know that?” she asked. He quickly revved his bike, pretending he couldn’t hear her. Bruce needed him back and he needed to be as far from her as possible. She continued to shout as he pulled away. “I feel sorry for whatever poor sap ends up dating you!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work is probably going to be told a little bit out of chronological order (oops). Thanks for reading! Here's the link to her moodboard on my tumblr if you want to check it out!
> 
> https://youngjust-ass.tumblr.com/post/629836314028769280/hello-daddy-hello-mom-im-your-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch


	2. Gumshoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim and Bart in the Watchtower

It was taking Tim a lot longer than he thought it would to figure out who this girl was. She had lied about where she lived- that much was obvious. He’d focused his search around the university and hadn’t come up with shit. Finding a fourteen-year-old with brown hair and green eyes in one of the biggest cities in the world was proving to be a bit difficult and it was starting to get under his skin. There was no way this kid with a death wish was outsmarting him. He was Robin. He figured out the world’s greatest detective’s identity when he was nine. She wore a homemade costume and the only reason she wasn’t dead yet was sheer luck. A mental image of the girl, shot up and left for dead in the back corner of some alley popped into his mind. He didn’t need that- he couldn’t have that happen. She was different from Greg Barnes because she wasn’t trying to be her own hero. She was emulating  _ him _ .

Maybe that’s why he hadn’t brought her up to Bruce yet. He’d already seen the way finding those young promising kids trying to become their own Gotham superhero weighed down on his shoulders. But someone dressing up as his own sidekick was a whole different level. He pictured that yellow ‘R’ patch on her chest, splashed with blood. He couldn’t imagine what seeing another dead Robin would do to Bruce, even if she wasn’t a real one. So yeah, he was handling this on his own. This was his responsibility.

If only this girl didn’t make it so damn difficult.

“Whatcha working on, Timmy?” Tim instinctively slammed his laptop shut at the sound of Bart’s voice. He started mentally cursing himself for the knee jerk reaction once he saw his friend’s raised eyebrows and creeping smile. “Watching porn on the Watchtower? For shame Tim.”   
  
His face fell into his hands as he groaned out, “I’m not watching porn.”

“Oh, no judgment, pal. You are a growing boy after all-”   
  
“Stop it.”

“-But you have to remember that this is a  _ team _ space-”

“Bart!”

Bart snickered at Tim’s mortification before affectionately ruffling his hair, arm slung around his shoulder. “I’m just yanking your chain. Get the bat-stick out of your ass.”

“I’m starting to wonder why I thought it was a good idea to try to get some work done up here.”

“Oh, come on, Timbo. You know you love me, just admit it.”

“Goodbye Bart,” Tim grunted as he stood, laptop tucked under his arm, and headed for the Zeta Tubes. Bart grabbed his hand, trying to slow his departure.

“Timmy, no! I was only joking! Please don’t leave me up here alone! I know you only watch porn in the Batcave!”

“Bart!” Tim struck out to attack but he was too late. The speedster was long gone. He had to resist the urge to beat his own skull in with his laptop. He was going to kill this girl for causing him all of this trouble. Of course, he’d have to find her first. He just couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that some kid with a do-it-yourself Robin costume was running circles around him. It just didn’t make sense. He had the best technology in the world at his disposal. She had a five-year-old grapple gun and half of a ski mask. None of this made any sense and it was driving him insane. Could he even call himself a detective if he couldn’t do this simple, simple task?

Maybe that was his problem. He was too wrapped up tech. He just needed to get out in the streets. Do some good old fashioned footwork to solve his case. How he was going to do that without one of his family members or teammates noticing was beyond him, but hey. He couldn’t win them all. And if he was going to win one, it was going to be against this wanna-be Robin that told him to fuck off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a bit short but I wanted to do some angry Tim and throw some Bart in there. The next chapter will be a bit longer and take place before Tim meets her in chapter one. See y'all then!


	3. Sure As Shootin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parker incurs her first major injury as a teenage vigilante.  
> Why did no one tell her getting shot hurt so damn much?

It was still dark outside when Parker woke up. Her head felt heavy and her limbs didn’t even feel like they were still attached to her body. It was that swaddled feeling that made you want to fall right back asleep, but something else forced her to stay awake. The searing hot pain in her abdomen was an excellent motivator for staying conscious.

Okay, so, maybe- maybe, jumping into the middle of a fight in a dead-end alley hadn’t been her best idea. It was four vs one and whatever the little guy did, he didn’t deserve to end up dead in a pile of garbage. Nobody deserved that. So she’d dropped right in and gotten her ass whooped instead. Her brain hadn’t exactly thought through the part where once the little guy got out of there she would be taking on four guys by herself. She’d never had the best track record with decision making, but this truly took the cake. Being kicked while she was down wasn’t fun. Being beaten while she was down was worse. Being shot while she was down? Now that one was the real kicker.

Who shot middle schoolers in dead-end alleys anyway?

In their defense, she did come around looking for a fight. In her defense, she wasn’t exactly known for thinking things through. They’d laughed, called her a silly little girl as they spit down at her. She’d retorted that she might’ve been a little girl, but at least she had bigger balls than they did. That had scored her another kick. She never did know when to shut up, did she?

Taking two quick breaths, she reached out for something to help her stand up. She wasn’t bleeding out in some back alley. Not today, anyway. Where she expected to find brick under her hands, however, she found interior wallpaper. She choked on an exclamation of worry as her eyes ripped fully open, searching the room for whoever moved her out of the alley. There was no one. She was in a half-empty studio apartment, with sparse furniture, and a water damaged ceiling. Whoever had brought her there had been kind enough to give her the lone mattress. Clearly, they weren’t bringing much money in if she had confused their mattress with a pile of garbage.

She ground her teeth together as she shifted her weight toward the wall, trying to pull herself up. She needed to get out of here before whoever brought her here came back.

“Oh my god! Don’t stand up! You’re gonna pull your stitches!” Parker turned wide eyes toward the sound. A young black man was trying to pull his keys out of the door with two bags of groceries in his arms. Judging by his disposition and the concerned look on his face, he was not one of the guys from last night. Dropping his keys on the floor and kicking the door shut, he almost threw his groceries on the counter before rushing over to her. Then he noticed the terrified look in her eye and backed up a few steps.

“Sorry. I know you must be scared. I, uh, heard those guys beating you up last night and I brought you up here after they left. I had a feeling you wouldn’t want to go to the hospital.” She just kept staring at him, trying to piece together the words he was saying. “Because, you know, the, uh-”

The man tapped his chest twice and her hand shot up to the yellow patch haphazardly sewn onto her own. Right. She was dressed as a vigilante. He’d been doing her a favor. That was good. A lot better than the hospital. Her old caseworker would probably have a heart attack if she got a call in the middle of the night saying one of her missing kids got brought in with a gunshot wound and a domino mask. She closed her eyes, trying to count her breaths and just calm down. She didn’t need to be panicking right now. It was going to be okay.

“You gave me stitches?” She finally asked. Her eyes narrowed as she inspected him. He didn’t look to be very far out of high school. Maybe twenty. “You’re too young to be a doctor.”

He scoffed at her analysis as if she was a friend insulting him and not a preteen bleeding all over his shitty mattress. “I’m pre-med and what are you? Twelve?”

“I’m thirteen,” she shot back defensively as she worked on rolling up her jacket and her undershirt. A gauze pad stared back up at her, hiding the stitches and keeping her from staining her clothes any more than they already were. She worked her finger through the hole in her shirt and jacket. She was going to have to resew that patch onto some new ones. Preferably not bloodstained. “Thank you.”

“It's, uh, no problem,” he replied, watching her inspect herself. “You were bleeding pretty severely so you should probably stay off of the streets until your stitches can come out in a few weeks. You wouldn't want them to pull or to overstress your body right now. I’m not exactly a surgical team and your insides are going to need a little more healing time than your skin.”

She nodded slowly. “You didn’t need to do that.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t going to sit around and do nothing. I don’t care if you were looking for a fight or not, I wasn’t letting some teenager bleed out in an alley.” She didn’t reply, mind focused on that alley. On the pain in her side.

“Hey,” he got her attention. “Thirteen is a little young for vigilantism, don’t you think?”

“Someone had to do it,” she answered, eyes watching the blue-gray sky, just barely dotted with stars. The sun was coming up on the other side of the building. Her words echoed his own as she spoke. “I wasn’t going to sit around and do nothing.”

“Isn’t that what Batman is for?” he questioned.

She simply shrugged. “He wasn’t been around much lately.”

He watched her pensively for another few moments, dragging his lip between his teeth in thought as he looked down at the kid in his apartment who seemed to have pushed Atlas out of the way. “I’m Cassidy, by the way. Cassidy Jones.”

She looked between his extended hand and his sincere face only once before accepting the handshake. “Robin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time we're going to see her and Tim's second meeting. I'm excited, I love their interactions!


End file.
